Star Wars - Skyborn
by JosieVang2
Summary: What if the Lost Tribe of the Sith had been reintroduced into the galaxy 40 years earlier, during the time of the Empire? Read this to find out! (At least, my take on it)


'Tamora...'

Tamora heard the voice in her head.

She looked around the lake, but found no one. Still, SOMETHING was there. She could feel it touching her mind in the Force.

'Tamora Vel. You are strong in the Dark Side, young one.' The voice came again.

Tamora's hand dropped to the lightsaber at my hip that was tied to my belt. Her slim, green dress fluttered in the wind as she turned this way and that, trying to determine who was observing her, and from where.

Was this a test being administered to Tamora by an Apprentice, ordered by the Circle of Lords, to see if she was worthy of being accepted into the Sith Temple?

At the age of fifteen, Tamora was extremely powerful, devoted to the Sith, and she lived in great wealth and comfort. Her home, or rather, Mansion, was outside the city of Sharv, overlooking the Ragnos Lakes.

Which was where Tamora was right now, having just been about to go night swimming, as she always did each night.

Tamora didn't even consider activating my lightsaber, let alone using it. It had only been given to her to practice with after she had sent in her application to become an Apprentice at the Temple. It was a temporary gift, and not something to be treated as if she OWNED it. At least, not yet.

It would depend on whether she was accepted as an Apprentice or not, which would determine whether the lightsaber would be taken from her in a few weeks time, or if she would be allowed to keep it and claim it as her own.

'This is not a test, young one.' The voice came again.

Tamora stood there warily, barefoot in the sand. She expanded her Force awareness, but found no one near her. Of course, if this WAS a test, she WOULDN'T feel anything in the Force, she berated herself mentally.

Hiding ones presence in the Force was one of the most basic of skills learned by Apprentices at the Temple.

Tamora knew this because her older sister, twenty year old Kria Vel, was an extremely powerful and gifted Sith Saber who had begun her training five years ago.

Tamora hoped to follow in her sister's footsteps.

'What do you desire?' The voice asked.

NOW Tamora could sense that she was being tested. The question was a test.

'I want to protect my family, my home, and my friends and my pet Uvak from the Destroyers and from anything else that might hurt them.' Tamora thought back to the voice in reply, completely honest and sincere.

The Destroyers. Ancient Keshiri legends told of someone or something, or a group of somethings, that would descend upon Kesh and other civilized worlds to wipe out all intelligent life in the galaxy and return them to a primitive state.

Over the course of the Sith's existence on Kesh since the Omen had crashed a millenia ago, the Sith had willingly accepted the Keshiri legends, embracing the roles that the Keshiri people thought the Sith were to play.

That of the Protectors. People with unnatural, but great power who would rise up and challenge the Destroyers, and protect all life in the galaxy.

Of course, the tale of the Destroyers had also been proven true, based on recent scientific evidence, so the most recent generation of Sith had started taking their role a little more seriously instead of basking in their nearly God-Like treatment by the Keshiri and clapping each other on the back about how they had manipulated the poor natives.

And that included Tamora. She had always taken the legend to heart, and she would ALWAYS wish to defend and protect her family, the planet of Kesh, and beyond. But according to her older sister, Kria, one of the first things a Sith Apprentice was taught was that they could love and cherish anything they wished, have anything they desired, as long as they didn't love it so much they couldn't bear to lose it.

Which seemed awfully conflicting to Tamora. Then again, was being so ready and willing to protect her family and friends, even from other Sith if it came down to it, the same as not being able to bear losing them?

Tamora didn't think so. It just showed how much she loved them. Period. If they were to die, yes, Tamora would be terribly upset, but she would be able to bear it and move on as any good Sith should.

Tamora's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sight of a giant, metal eye touching down in the sand in front of her.

It was so obviously a spacecraft. Not like the massive Omen, the vessel that had brought Tamora's ancestors to Kesh, but she could recognize it as a vessel nonetheless. It had thrusters, and it was metal, and-

And it was beautiful.

'You desire to fulfill your role as a Protector?' The voice said in Tamora's head, and Tamora somehow knew now that it was coming from the vessel itself and not merely from a person inside of it. 'Good, because the Destructors are rising, and it will not be long before they turn their sights on Kesh once more.'

Tamora was speechless. She felt the pure, raw significance of this moment, of this point in her life, in the Force. This was where EVERYTHING would change. For everyone.

Suddenly, the spherical vessel rotated on the spot, and then a slit appeared in its smooth surface. The slit grew wider, as if opening a curtain, and resolved itself into an opening. A boarding ramp seemed to spring out from the vessel.

'Come.' The vessel, no, the SHIP, said to Tamora. 'I will teach you. I will teach all of you of the galaxy and of the hold the Destroyers have over it.'

Tamora felt fear, apprehension, pride, and too many other emotions whirling around inside of her. She was a lowly...Not even a Sith Apprentice yet! What right did she have to be the first Sith to use a spacefaring vessel in over a millenia? What right did she have to be privvy to the secrets of the galaxy, the knowledge of the Destroyers, BEFORE the Circle of Lords?

'Come.' Ship repeated. 'I will show you your destiny, Protector.'

Her destiny...

Tamora's internal turmoil came to a halt. She held her head high, drew on the Force for calm, to steady her shaking legs and trembling hands, and she strode forward and stepped onto the boarding ramp...

* * *

><p>Three years later - Mos Eisley Cantina, Tattooine<p>

* * *

><p>Tamora sighed and brushed her long black hair out of her face, moving her bangs away to reveal her bright green eyes to anyone who would have been looking at her in the Cantina.<p>

And of course being a beautiful, well muscled, curvy woman sitting alone in the most wretched hive of scum and villainy on this dustball of a planet called Tattooine meant that, yes, Tamora DEFINITELY was attracting more than a few looks. Most of them leery and crude, and from males. Though she WAS getting a lusty stare from a Twi'lek woman in another booth...

Of course, the Twi'lek woman, who was well armed and appeared to be either a mercenary or bounty hunter, drew Tamora's sexually appreciative gaze right back.

Tamora enjoyed female lovers exclusively, and she had had a grand total of four over the past three years. Though their untimely deaths brought about by various circumstances had made Tamora start to wonder lately why she even bothered with that sort of thing. She was a Sith, a Protector, and she was ALWAYS leading a hazardous, dangerous life in her mission to save the galaxy from the Destroyers, who had the galaxy in their crushing Imperial grip.

Then again, Tamora had also enjoyed the occassional unexpected sexual encounter. She thought she liked those better than any commitment to a lover, since she needn't worry over her "Flings" being murdered anytime soon.

But she digressed. This was not at all what Tamora had envisioned her grand destiny and role as a Protector would be like be when, three years previously, the Sith meditation vessel had come to Kesh seeking her, and the rest of the Sith's help, against the Destroyers and their Empire.

Sitting in a dusty, dimly lit cantina waiting to sense a particular presence in the Force approaching was definitely not what Tamora had envisioned. Epecially when that presence was that of a Jedi.

The locals called him old Ben. An old wizard who lived out in the desert who came to this cantina for a drink or two every week. It hadn't taken Tamora long to figure out he was a Jedi, once she had begun surveying the cantina in the Force and feeling for remnants of his presence.

It stood out like a supernova star against the blackness of space.

And Tamora was here, waiting for him, not to KILL HIM, because the Destroyers had...Well...DESTROYED nearly all the Jedi already...No, Tamora was here waiting for the old Jedi because she NEEDED HIS HELP. She needed information only he could give her about the Destroyers, about the recent history, in all its details. Because browsing the Holonet hadn't gleaned anything. And Tamora had tried, back on the luxury yacht she had called her home for the past year since her arrival on Tattooine.

The Destroyers, the Empire, their leader, the Emperor, and his attack dog, Darth Vader, had seemingly gone to extreme lengths and measures to erase all information on the recent past.

And the Circle Of Lords felt there had to be a damn good reason for that, so they had sent Tamora here on a mission, chasing the rumors of a strange hermit with a glowing sword, to find this Jedi and ask him to fill her in on things. Or interrogate and torture him. Either way, Tamora would get her results.

Tamora's stomach churned at the thought of torture, even though she had killed many people over the past three years. They had all been Pirates, or mercenaries, the hardest of hard, the worst of the galaxy, or they had been Imperial soldiers, cogs in the machine that was the Destroyers.

Tamora could RATIONALIZE all of it. Surely no one would miss a few pirates, who raided and murdered for a living? Surely no one would miss the Stormtroopers in service of the Destroyers' leader, the Emperor? The Emperor and his Empire that was oppressing and ruining the galaxy.

Or flat out destroying it, in the cases of orbital bombardments on "Rebellious" worlds.

It all made Tamora SICK.

ESPECIALLY the Emperor and Darth Vader.

That's what got Tamora completely FURIOUS. Those two Sith pretenders, those two who disgraced the word Sith, who disrespected what it was to BE Sith! They were the TRUE Destroyers, them and their Empire!

They were power hungry, sadistic, unthinking and illogical. So long as they had their power and sick pleasures.

They were NOT Sith, and Tamora REFUSED to even let the thought enter her head.

True Sith, like the Lost Tribe, were calm, collected, and logical. They would do things, if they were necessary, but no more. And they certainly wouldn't get any pleasure out of it! No, murder, even torture, were simply THINGS THAT HAD TO BE DONE. And a step below getting a sick kick out of butchering people was to not feel anything at all.

If a Sith couldn't feel regret, feel remorse, feel guilt, then how would that Sith know what they had done was necessary, know that they were still...Still Sith? Still living, still keeping sight of their objective?

A true Sith, like Tamora and the Lost Tribe, didn't let the Dark Side take them over. They controlled the Dark Side, and then, only so much as they NEEDED TO. Only so much as they needed it to win, to fight, or merely just to survive. Gratuous use of the Force, for some perverse pleasure in causing others agony or pain just for the hell of it, was unacceptable among the Lost Tribe.

"Hey sweetie, you look lonely." A soft voice said, breaking into Tamora's thoughts. The Twi'lek had come over to Tamora's booth, and was standing there with her hand on her hip, looking down at her with a coy smile.

Tamora felt her heart beat a little faster as she looked the Twi'lek over. She didn't know why, but she found Twi'lek women to be even more alluring and perfect than Human or Keshiri females. Maybe it was those damn lekku head tails of theirs? Tamora's eyes focused on the blue skinned Twi'lek's lekku, and she felt a flutter in her belly.

'Definitely the lekku.' She thought to herself. Tamora cast out with the Force, searching around her for the presence of Old Ben. He wasn't here yet.

So she had time.

She smiled at the Twi'lek. Both her previous lovers had been Twi'leks, and most of the intimate encounters Tamora had were with Twi'lek women. "Not feeling very lonely now that you're here." Tamora replied with a little wink. Oh yes, she had time enough for this.

The Twi'lek slid neatly into the booth beside Tamora, graceful as any Sith Saber worth their...Anything, really, because a clumsy Sith was a dead Sith.

"What's your name, cutie?" Said the Twi'lek.

Her hand slid under the table and found Tamora's bare thigh.

Tamora was wearing her customary Keshiri dress with the slit that allowed her bare legs and thighs to be free in case of battle, which usually included a fair deal of acrobatic movements which would definitely have been hindered if the dress didn't allow for freedom of movement.

"Tamora Vel." She answered casually.

"Mmmmm, delicious. I'm Renna Corsica." The Twi'lek responded, pressing herself up against Tamora, her lips breathing hot in Tamora's ear. "What brings a fancy dressed little beauty like yourself to a place like this?"

Tamora smirked in response. "Bounty hunting." It was the truth. She had established herself as a bounty hunter in this vast galaxy, on her Masters' instructions. A very deadly, skilled bounty hunter who primarily operated on Tattooine. Though she HAD gone to many other worlds chasing bounties, and any information on the Destroyers she could get that could be useful to the Lost Tribe...

It was a long game, Tamora knew. It would take time and patience to overthrow the Destroyers.

Hopefully, though, Tamora's newest mission to seek aid from this one of few remaining Jedi was a sign that things were beginning to at least move a bit more quickly.

Tamora reached out to Renna in the Force and touched her mind. What she found there shocked her.

The Twi'lek wasn't any simple merc. She was an Imperial Intelligence Agent. But thankfully, she wasn't able to use the Force, like the Inquisitors or the other Dark Siders in service of the Destroyers, so Renna didn't notice Tamora's presence in her mind, probing her memories, thoughts, and feelings.

Tamora searched out everything associated with herself in Renna's mind, and found that Renna had been tasked by the Empire to...Oh.

That was disconcerting.

The Destroyers were in AWE of Tamora's skills, and they were looking to recruit her...

Hmmm. Tamora would need to report to her Master about this. Would the Circle of Lords want Tamora to abandon this Jedi finding mission in favor of infiltrating the Empire?

Perhaps, perhaps not. Many of the Lost Tribe had gotten themselves in with the Empire already.

Why did they want to recruit Tamora?

She dug deeper into Renna's mind, and the image of a massive, moon-sized spheroid battlestation came floating up.

This was it. The Death Star. The weapon the Destroyers would use to, true to their name, destroy entire worlds and set fire to the galaxy, including Kesh.

The Lost Tribe had only managed to get three Sabers on the Death Star, as of yet. And THAT was only because they had been on a prison world at the time when the Empire was picking up criminals to use as a workforce in the construction of the Death Star.

And it had taken months of imprisonment for THAT little opportunity to arise. And, even more frustrating was that those Sabers were now unable to be contacted by any means. They were in the heart of the Destroyers. Many in the Lost Tribe over the past year had started to consider them to be...Lost. Killed or detained in their infiltration of the Death Star.

Tamora pulled out of Renna's mind.

So the Destroyers wanted to recruit her to serve as a combat instructor for their Stormtroopers and other members of the Imperial Military on the Death Star.

Casting a sideways glance at Renna, Tamora felt a surge of respect and admiration for the Twi'lek woman.

Before conciously touching her mind in the Force, Tamora had seen nothing physically, nor had she felt anything through the Force to suggest that Renna was anything other than what she appeared.

She was good. VERY good.

And on top of that, she was a Twi'lek who held a position as an Intel Agent. Very few aliens served in the Empire, due to its xenophobic streak, and even less aliens actually rose up through the ranks and held any prominent positions.

Yes, oh yes, Renna was good at what she did. Too good to hold her back simply because she was an alien.

Tamora was shaken out of her thoughts when she felt Renna's hand move up her thigh. She almost sighed. Now she wouldn't be able to get any pleasure out of this encounter, knowing full well what Renna was and what she was here to do.

Tamora reached under the table and pulled Renna's hand off her leg. 'Might as well get down to business...'

"I know you're Imperial Intelligence." She said quietly. "What are you here for? Have any of my recent quarries been important Imperial officials?"

Renna's body and face didn't betray anything. But NOW Tamora felt a flash of something from her in the Force. Shock. However, even that quickly disappeared.

"Oh, fine, take all the fun out of it..." Renna pouted. "For the record, I was genuinely interested in you, and I can plainly tell that YOU are genuinely interested in ME."

Now THAT kind of response, Tamora hadn't expected at all. Wasn't the goal of an Intel Agent to NOT let anyone know they were Intel, even if someone called them on it? Instead, Renna had just immediately, openly given herself up as intel, AND if she was telling the truth, had given Tamora leverage to use over her: Her attraction to Tamora.

Hm. Maybe Renna wasn't such a good Agent after all.

Oh well.

"I'm just here to watch you and shadow your every move until I get the order to give you a recruitment speech that will involve you spending the next two years at a top secret location and making more credits than you know what to do with." Renna was grinning, and she said it all as casually as if she were talking about pitching a job offer for a Speeder sales company rather than for a top secret Military assignment.

Tamora was completely thrown. Confused and baffled beyond belief. "You don't seem very good at your job."

Renna kept grinning. "Why's that, sweetie?"

"You just don't." Tamora said, shaking her head.

Renna bumped her shoulder against Tamora's playfully. "The best Intel Agents are the ones who seem just like anybody else. It's the ones who try to act TOO casual and TOO indistinguishable from the crowd that are picked out as Intel."

"I know that, but aren't you taking it to an extreme? I already know exactly what you are, so there's no need to keep up the act." Tamora said pointedly.

"Who said it was an act?" Renna replied. Then, in a low voice, she added, "And who said it was being put on for your benefit?"

"Those nasty rebels are everywhere, huh?" Tamora said sarcastically. Of course, Tamora didn't have any ill will towards the rebels. They were fighting the Destroyers, after all, even if they didn't know that. The Circle of Lords had begun considering sending in a few Sabers to aid the rebellion, even. Covertly, of course.

"Exactly! Who knows who could be watching me watching you?"

Tamora sighed in confusion. "Isn't that just watching both of us?"

Renna winked. "I don't know, but if it is I'm sure we make quite the show together."

"Undoubtedly." Said Tamora. "But I don't like being on display. I tend to get an itchy trigger finger."

Renna smiled and patted Tamora's hand. "This IS your lucky day. I happen to have a nice place for us to meet and discuss things more privately. There's an Imperial outpost up on the east hill right out of Mos Eisely. A nice, cool underground facility."

Tamora smiled, too. "I'm sure I'll love it." 'And all the information I can get from it.' She added silently. She turned her hand over so she was holding Renna's hand, then brought it to her lips and kissed Renna's blue Twi'lek fingers. She grinned at Renna. "When do we leave?"

* * *

><p>The Risky Gamble Cantina, Coruscant Underground, Level 1<p>

* * *

><p>It had been three years since they had left Kesh, going out into the galaxy to defeat the Destroyers of Keshiri legend who had risen once again.<p>

"They" being the Lost Tribe of the Sith.

Of course, they had to know their enemy. Which was why Kria Vel was sitting around in a Cantina on the Destroyers main world, Coruscant, or Imperial Center, as they called it, and sipping a particularly sweet drink.

It was ALSO why Kria was wearing a black Imperial TIE pilot uniform, with her shiny black helmet on the table in front of her.

Kria had no misgivings about this. To know how to best defeat the warships of the Destroyers, their fighters and freighters, the Lost Tribe had to know their tactics, their battle plans, and every detail of their ships' capabilities.

And Kria, who had fallen in love with the vast beauty of space ever since she had left Kesh, had immediately put herself forward as one of a small group of Sith who were to enlist in the Imperial Academy.

Kria had been the only Sith to come out the other side of the Imp Academy. And she was one of three people in the history of the Empire to have graduated from the Academy in just two years time.

The Academy's study courses and flight training were supposed to take four years to complete. Three to three and a half if you were extra studious and an above average pilot.

Doing it in under two made you a genius, if not a God, with the way the other pilots would stare at Kria when she would walk by them.

Or sit near them in a Cantina.

And then, of course, there were some people, like the drunken idiot Kria could feel approaching her from behind in the Force, who thought Kria was some sort of stuck up know-it-all who was too good for the rest of the TIE pilots.

The reason Kria was sitting alone WASN'T because she felt she was too good for them, rather, it was because she didn't feel like playing some idiotic game that involved putting your hand on a table and throwing a knife between your fingers and hoping it would stick into the table surface and NOT go into your hand.

But sentient beings would think what they wanted to think. Especially when they were heavily intoxicated.

"Hey, hey you!" The TIE pilot's slurred voice came to her.

Kria didn't turn. She just kept drinking her sweet juice.

"How'd a WOMAN get through the Academy in record time?" The drunken man jeered.

And then there was that. Kria had learned very quickly that very few women were in the Imperial Military, and that the ones that were, were scorned and spat upon. Women weren't treated well simply because they were women.

Kria wanted nothing more than to Force choke all the men who insulted and behaved cruelly toward her, but she was a Sith, and she had to control herself and her emotions, instead of letting them control HER. She would not give in and throttle someone simply for having a bad attitude.

But this drunken pilot was pushing her resolve to its limits.

"How many Governors did you have to get in bed with to get into the Academy in the first place?" Was the man's latest insult that broke Kria out of her thoughts.

'Just keep ignoring him, Kria. He's nothing to you.' She told hereslf. But her anger was rising by the second.

"How would you like to sleep with a REAL man?" The drunk persisted.

Finally, Kria's anger forced her to respond. "When I see any real men, I'll let you know my answer to that question."

It happened in a flash.

Kria heard "How dare you, you little whore!" and then she saw the hands reach around her from behind, saw and FELT them close over her breasts, and then Kria was up and moving.

She grabbed those hands, got to her feet, spun around and pulled the man toward her and drove her knee up into his gut. Hard. Then she stepped back and kicked him in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards until he hit the wall. All without using the Force to enhance the power of her strikes.

The man shook his head to clear it, and he gasped as he caught his breath. "THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, WOMAN?! YOU THINK YOU CAN HURT ME?"

Then he rushed at her.

Kria's blaster pistol was out of its hip holster and pointed at the man in an instant. The man froze at the sight of the blaster. "Don't even think about touching me again." Kria said coldly. "I can kill you right now in self defense and no one will bat an eye."

Then the other pilots stepped in. Four of them inched their way in front of Kria, over to the drunk. They took his arms and began pulling him away, toward the cantina exit.

"He didn't mean anything. He's just a drunk being drunk." A pilot said to Kria. Kria was turning on the spot, keeping her blaster on the drunk as he was dragged away.

"Loyalty to your fellow pilots is admirable, but not when they've committed sexual assault." Kria replied. She finally lowered her blaster at the sight of the cantina door sliding shut on the raging drunk. "The higher ups WILL be hearing about this."

The pilot said nothing. He just shrugged, then started back over to his table.

Kria holstered her blaster and looked at her own table, then back at the group of pilots.

She put on her best smile and approached their table. "Can I join you?"

"After what you just did?" Said a blond-haired man. He was grinning. "You bet you can join us. Pull up a chair, lady."

"You're happy I hurt that man?" Kria asked, raising an eyebrow.

The blond man's grin grew even wider. The other pilots at the table snickered. "I've been meaning to give that guy a thump or two myself for a long time now, the mouthy little shit." Said the blond man.

Kria found herself smiling. Her muscles were relaxed as she took a chair from a nearby table and sat down next to the blond man.

"So who are you?" She asked.

"Roa. Roa Drelfin." The blond man answered easily.

"Now don't go leaving out the fact that you're a Lieutenant Commander, Lieutenant." Another man spoke up. "Don't you know you only get the ladies WITH your rank attached to your name?"

Roa laughed at that, and so did the other pilots.

And for some reason, Kria found herself laughing with them. As soon as she realized what she was doing, she abruptly stopped and put her hand over her mouth.

"Stow it, Karn." Roa said good-naturedly to the man who had spoken. He turned to Kria. "Yeah, it's the truth. I'm a Lieutenant Commander. And I hear that you, Kria Vel, have just graduated from a two year stay at the Academy only a few short hours ago, a feat only achieved by two others in the Academy's history."

Kria's smile returned. "That's right." She said pridefully.

"Well then, since I AM a Lt. Commander, and I DO have a vacancy in my squadron, and YOU are all geared up with nowhere to go..." Roa continued pointedly, staring at Kria with a grin.

Kria knew where he was going with this. "You want to have me transferred to your squadron?"

The man named Karn gave Kria a little punch on the shoulder. "Combine our track record with yours and we'd be unstoppable."

Roa nodded in agreement. His eyes never left Kria's. "So how about it, lady? How would you like to fly with me and my buddy Karn here?"

Kria stared at Roa for a long time, as if she were doing some deep thinking. What she was REALLY doing was examining him in the Force.

Roa was, not surprisingly, an easy going, kind young man. And an excellent pilot. But what surprised Kria the most about him was his feelings toward the Empire. He genuinely seemed to dislike the Empire, though not most of the PEOPLE in the Empire. But for what reason, Kria didn't know.

He was honest and trustworthy.

And he was also very attracted to Kria.

But she hadn't needed to sense THAT in the Force.

She could see it with her own eyes whenever she looked at him. Whenever she saw him looking at HER.

And Kria didn't need the Force to know that SHE was feeling attracted to HIM as well.

Kria brushed her short hair out of her eyes and gave Roa her best smile.

"Alright. I'm in."

* * *

><p>Valorem Medical Facility, Coruscant Underground, Level 1<p>

* * *

><p>"Lilea Benezia."<p>

Lilea got up from her chair in the waiting room and followed the doctor through the halls, up a turbolift and then through even more hallways until they stopped at a door numbered "E-344".

Examination room number 344.

They entered the examination room. Lilea sat down on the hospital bed, and the doctor pressed the door control button. The door slid shut, and he turned his eyes to Lilea.

He then turned his eyes down to look at the datapad he was holding that was, presumably, full of Lilea's medical information and history.

Lilea sat on the bed, impatient. She just wanted to get this over with.

"Now, Miss Benezia, I am Doctor Rholar, and it says here that you are twenty one years old, you live here in Imperial Center and that you have a-"

"A fatal disease that's slowly eating me alive from the inside out called Osepia Nayllus." Lilea said impatiently. "I picked it up on a mining expedition in the outer rim about four months ago."

Doctor Rholar looked down at the datapad, then back up at Lilea. "That's correct. It says here that you-"

Again, Lilea beat him to it. "I have an estimated grand total of five years to live. At least, that was the time I was given the last time I was in to see a doctor here last month."

Rholar gave her a little smile and a shake of his head. "You've been in and out of Valorem's a lot, I take it?" He asked.

Lilea nodded. Her disease had to be managed and observed very often, least it slip by and progress even further than it already had, and damage her organs.

"I'll assume you're also aware that there is nothing anyone can do about this disease other than to slow it down and delay it from reaching your heart or brain?" Rholar asked quietly, his voice sympathetic and kind.

"I am." Said Lilea.

Yes. She didn't need him to tell her that when every other doctor before him had told her the same thing: There is nothing we can do for you.

And they called themselves the best doctors and researchers in the most well funded Medical Facility in the galaxy.

Rholar set his datapad on a table and began rummaging through some drawers. He pulled out a little scanning device and a small flashlight, then turned to Lilea. "Miss Benezia, if you wouldn't mind..." He trailed off into silence at the sight that met him, losing his professionalism for a few seconds.

Lilea was crossing her arms and pulling off her short sleeve shirt, which she dropped on the floor. Then she pulled down her loose, long exercise shorts and stepped out of them, kicking them off to the side to join her shirt. She was standing in her underwear. She hadn't had a bra on. But Lilea didn't even care at this point. She'd been completely naked, no underwear, even, and been examined by doctors before. In fact, she would have to do that again for Doctor Rholar in a few minutes...

Without waiting for Rholar to say anything, she bent down, hooked her fingers under the waistband of her underwear and slipped them down her legs.  
>She set her underwear on top of her shirt and shorts, then stood up straight to stare at Rholar. Rolar's eyes were now carefully averted.<p>

"Miss...Benezia...Why..." Rholar's professional face was back, and he was looking at her in full now. But his voice was still uncertain.

Lilea almost laughed at how she had shaken him up. 'I should try undressing BEFORE the doctors ask me to a little more often...'

"You would have asked eventually. That's also in my medical files." Lilea explained, smiling. She hopped back up and sat on the bed. "I doubt you've read that far ahead though, from your reaction. Every visit, I need a full visual inspection to note and examine-"

This time, Rholar cut Lilea off, smiling back at her as he glanced down at his datapad. "Ahhh, yes. Lighter than normal colored skin, flesh or bone that is unusually soft, which indicates where the disease is eating through particularly quickly."

"Right." Lilea said, laughing. She was totally comfortable being naked. In fact, she was more comfortable than ever when she was nude, since the strain of wearing even clothing could sometimes cut and bruise her skin and bones due to the disease weakening her cell bonds.

Rholar laughed as well. "Well, I WAS going to ask if you would lift up your shirt and have your heart listened to, among other basic checkups, but if you'd rather skip ahead to the main observation of the progression of your disease..."

Lilea smiled. "I'd like that." She lay back on the cold bed, her legs straight, her arms by her side, and let Rholar examine her.

A short while later, he was done. There was silence for a moment. Then he said, "Well, from what I have on the datapad, and what I can see and feel of your body, I'd say the medicine is doing its work in holding back the disease."

Of course, hopeful talk. Lilea almost snorted. She could plainly see looking down over her own body, the patches of thin white skin all along her arms, her chest and stomach, around her eyes and even some on her legs and thighs and hips. She could feel the weakness, the tenderness. She felt it when her clothes would press in on them.

Why did doctors always have to have bedside manners?

"If you could flip over, we'll check your back." Rholar said after another silence, this one longer. If he had expected Lilea to break down and say: "Thank you so much doctor!" then he was mistaken.

She KNEW she wasn't doing good.

And so did he. But as a doctor, he had to be optimistic for the sake of the patient.

Still, Lilea obliged, and flipped over onto her stomach, setting her head on her hands as she stared at the white wall.

Rholar examined her, like before. Starting from the top down, this time, though.

When he was done, she got dressed again and waited expectantly.

"The disease seems to be focusing on your upper back." He said carefully.

Lilea didn't need a mirror to know that. "How bad am I now, compared to last month?"

"Well I can't-" Rholar began.

Lilea glared. "Tell me how long I've got left to enjoy my holovids and juicy steaks. Because I pay a lot for them." And wasn't that the truth. Lilea had no family, no close friends to support her. She still did her best to work. She was an Imperial Treasury Agent. Which meant she managed bank accounts and other number crunchy things for the Empire. And she was good at it.

She loved numbers.

Of course, the little mining trip she had taken to an asteroid field that had gotten her the disease hadn't been for work. A co-worker of Lilea's, a woman named Zam, the only person that even came close to a friend for Lilea, had convinced Lilea to go on it with her. A fun time away. A nice field trip off Imperial Center watching some hot guys blast away at asteroids.

Now Lilea had this disease that would kill her, Zam was feeling guilty, and they had an uneasy and awkward friendship now, to say the least.

"This is just a rough guess without any scans, but I'd say it's accelerated its pace considerably." Rholar said finally. A pause. Then- "Two years."

Lilea gasped. She couldn't help herself.

It had gone from a good solid five years to a short two years in ONE MONTH?

After only four months of even HAVING the disease?

"W-What...That can't be right." She stuttered. Her mind was reeling. "You had to have misjudged..It's got to be closer to four, years or three and a half..."

Rholar gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry." Was all he said.

Five years. She'd been promised five years. That was a good, long time to have left. Four years would still have been good. Even three might have been managable. But just two short years? Only twenty four months?

"Miss Benezia?" Rholar's voice reached herlight years away.

Lilea saw the room spin. She felt sick. She stared down at her hands, now feeling very concious of the blood flowing through them, and the sensation of the cool air on her skin. The tightening of her muscles as she moved her fingers. It was all surreal, as if everything about her body had been magnified. All her senses, her feelings.

And all of it would be gone in just twenty four months.

LILEA would be gone in twenty four months.

And the part that broke her inside, that twisted her heart and smashed it to pieces, was the fact that no one would even notice when she disappeared from the galaxy.


End file.
